


And you surrender to the heat

by 2dick2down



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Keith (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Boypussy, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gratuitous Smut, Intersex, Knotting, Lingerie, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Lance (Voltron), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Spanking, Top Keith (Voltron), Vaginal Sex, inordinate amounts of foreplay, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-07 03:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17357879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2dick2down/pseuds/2dick2down
Summary: Lance sprawled across their four-poster bed was all things debauched: flushed face tucked coyly into the crook of his arms, ass spilling from his white panties like a wet dream where it was raised in the air and waiting to take Keith inside, long-lashed eyes fluttering in Keith’s direction as he aimed a hazy, heat-heavy look over his shoulder.





	And you surrender to the heat

**Author's Note:**

> i've no explanation for this. it began as an earnest attempt at a galtean!Klance take, then quickly devolved into total filth. i suppose i needed a break from the giant 'porn-with-plot' klance oneshot i'm writing for nur to throw together some lewd abo.
> 
> this was the result. really, truly, pure porn.
> 
> ⊂( ・ ̫・)⊃ enjoy lads

Lance sprawled across their four-poster bed was all things debauched: flushed face tucked coyly into the crook of his arms, ass spilling from his white panties like a wet dream where it was raised in the air and waiting to take Keith inside, long-lashed eyes fluttering in Keith’s direction as he aimed a hazy, heat-heavy look over his shoulder. He hid a pout behind his arm and blinked innocently at Keith, brown thighs spread. They glistened under the flickering candlelight as though they’d been rubbed down with oil and gold leaf.

Keith’s nose could tell it was neither oil nor gold leaf.

Staring at Lance was abruptly agony. Keith gave a guttural groan, clutching his hardening cock like a lifeline. He’d let himself look for long enough, he mused. One circuit around the pheromone-infused room to run through the heat safety instructions Romelle had outlined for him had almost been enough to crack Keith, and Lance was on his absolute best behaviour.

“Patience, please, uh,” Keith had said earlier, nearly dropping the ewer of cool water he was filling one-handed, his other busy keeping his nose plugged, when he tossed a look over his shoulder and found his omega rolling about in their sheets with restless little moans, two fingers rubbing at himself through his damp panties.

Lance had been lucid enough at the time to send Keith his driest look and reply, “I am a paragon of patience tonight, Your Highness.”

Fair point, that.

Best behaviour or no, there was little either of them could do to combat the effects of Lance’s heat on his frazzled alpha. His soft whines and sleepy eyes, following Keith’s every movement like a magnet, were torture enough. Keith’s head was beginning to pound from so long spent resisting the omega. He was lucky Lance wasn't currently trying to climb him like a tree. He might have been tempted, but Keith had sent him an admonishing look as soon as he sensed Lance about to crawl from their bed. It was a look that froze him in place. Keith's eyes yellowed in warning and Lance settled back against the pillows immediately, whining in discontent and wrapping his hands around the bars of their carved headboard to restrain himself and his writhing little body, naked and needy.

Keith had paused where he was depositing heat provisions at their nightstand. He felt his brows wrinkle. “I … didn’t expect that would work,” he said, baffled. Lance wasn’t nearly so receptive to alpha signals under normal circumstances; his omega was a wily one.

“I’m a good omega," Lance swore in his sweetest whine as he rubbed off on the nearest pillow, lush little thighs slung around satin and birdfeather. He looked appalling.

Keith stilled, eyes huge and uncomprehending. At the edge of his senses, he could hear his own pulse like the rush of a frothing river, loud and reverberating in his ears.

"So good for you, Your Highness, please, just for you,” Lance moaned, in a clear and heat-drunken bid for his alpha’s approval, voice pitched deliciously, and then Keith had to close his wide eyes and count backwards from sixty to rein in his horny wolf’s roaring praise.

The worst was yet to come. Soon, the begging would begin and then all bets were off. For now, Keith slipped his boots off and passed one last look around the room. They had water, food enough for every wave of Lance’s heat, and a cool bath drawn beneath the south-facing window in case fever took hold of his omega. All entrances were locked. Clean towels, extra blankets, fresh sheets heaped near the foot of the bed. Various phallic-shaped toys, though Keith suspected they wouldn’t be needing those. Lance had let out a fierce little growl of refusal when he’d seen Keith dragging the basket from the linen closet.

“In case you –”

“I only want my alpha’s cock,” Lance had protested gloomily, words muffled against his pillow.

The glow of his loyalty had nearly broken Keith.

“And what if you spend your alpha, Your Highness?” Keith asked, biting back a small smile as he dropped the basket near the bed.

“I’ll wait for him,” Lance mumbled, defiant as always. “I’ll use his fingers until he’s ready again.”

Keith had bent to kiss him slow and seeking then, unable to resist a moment longer.

“Keith,” Lance said now. “Are you done? I’ve been so good. Haven’t I been good?”

“Yes,” Keith murmured and slid onto their bed, body bolstered by his nearness to Lance. His heartbeat picked up. “Thank you for waiting.”

“Tell me I’m good, please,” Lance begged.

“My good little omega,” Keith whispered, and Lance twitched violently, his breathing going thin. His scent sharpened imperceptibly. Keith’s nose tracked the change like a bloodhound. “The best omega.”

“Oh,” Lance whined, hips rolling in search of friction and finding none to his satisfaction. “Will you touch me now, Your Highness? Please, it hurts –”

The first touch was a shock of euphoria for them both. Slipping into warm water after a long day spent working the muscles sore. First rain post-drought. Snowmelt in summer. The sounds of the Altean sea bottled and then set free. Keith touched Lance around the hips, featherlight, then felt down his perfectly round ass. Fuck. His shapely little cheeks were bursting from his tiny panties. Keith palmed them, kneading the mounds of squishy flesh in slow circles.

Lance’s mouth fell open on a long groan of relief.

“Better?”

“I, um,” Lance said.

Keith watched with curiosity as Lance’s face brightened beneath a blush of embarrassment. “... Ah,” he said, in sudden understanding.

He raised his nose to scent the room as the new outpouring of slick slowly trickled down Lance’s bare thighs. The slow drip, sweet as honey, was a true test of control. Keith swallowed at the lump in his throat. It was too much for Lance’s panties to contain. A dark patch of dampness stained the tiny triangle of fabric protecting his perfect wet folds. The fluid spilt over, running past the fabric. His scent, suddenly so potent, sat in the air like a soft summer breeze: light, airy, faintly nectarous with notes of hidden heat. And it was growing thicker, like a gathering storm.

“Sorry, oh, gods,” Lance whispered shakily and a fresh flood ran down his thighs in little wet rivulets, faster now, like a dam had burst and his body was giving up on holding it all in.

An involuntary growl built and burst from Keith’s chest. He was so scent-drunk on Lance and his natural perfume by this point that he was beginning to salivate. A little less control and he might have been drooling down his chin and neck.

Lance let out an answering mewl that made Keith’s cock leap in his breeches, stiffening urgently. It was throbbing against the intense and imperative need to soothe his omega’s ache. To mate.

To mate Lance. Only Lance. This, their first heat together and their most important.

The gravity of the situation fell into place in fractures. The soft whisper of sheets against bare flesh. Lance lying in a spill of milk-white moonlight, his hair a dark, curly halo around his head. Golden candlelight bleeding into milk-white moonlight. Dancing shadows. Brown skin against white satin. The unforgiving curves of his asscheeks, full and erupting from his wet panties. His scent, swelling treacherously. The growing impatience of Keith’s wolf, pacing restless circles and snuffling its unrest.

Everything strangely heightened, just this side of unbearable.

Keith’s agitation was a palpable thing. He saw it reflected in Lance, whose heartbeat came swift as a soldier’s tread. He kept drawing breaths like to do so pained him, moist little huffs of air that were making Keith’s cock hard as a rock in his breeches.

“So wet,” he marveled in gravelly reverence. He rubbed a thumb beneath Lance’s round cheeks, catching a stray drop of slick along the way, translucent as dew against the skin. Then he slid his thumb into his mouth to taste Lance, licked the bittersweet tang from it with an approving rumble. “So sweet on my tongue.”

Lance responded like a flower in bloom: his back bowing, asscheeks parting with a soft, near-inaudible wet noise to better brandish his beautiful little cunt to his mate. Keith’s body, in rut-induced reflex, felt hardwired and wonderfully attuned to these reactions, the wordless conversation occurring between his body and Lance’s.

Trails of slick turned Lance’s thighs shiny with wetness. He was producing far more than was needed in order to ease the fucking to come, perhaps in an attempt to lure Keith and his lousy alpha-brain in quicker. It seemed to be working, if the state of Keith’s cock was anything to go by.

"You’re dripping,” he murmured in awe, voice scraped raw. He squeezed at the hard ridge of his cock and tingling balls as he fingered the lace edge of Lance’s panties. His needy little cunt was so engorged it was beginning to spill past his panties, fleshy and swollen pink. “All for me?”

“Mhm,” Lance hummed softly, sounding right pleased about it.

Then he snuggled into his folded arms and began to sway his hips delicately. It was a sultry, circular dance that forced tiny, obscene wet noises from his folds as they rubbed up against each other, leaking fluid through the thin fabric of his panties.

The sight was a dagger of heat straight to the gut. Keith wanted to double over in his shock. He’d never seen Lance so in his element, so unashamedly erotic, and Lance always oozed sex appeal, had a pair of hips with a swing that sent courtiers careening into furniture and an ass that filled every article of clothing he wore. He was sublime to the touch.

And he – swaying hips and all – was Keith’s.

It certainly wasn’t a new thought, but woozy as he was on Lance’s sex pheromones, it brought a possessive growl to Keith’s lips. He thumbed Lance’s ass open further, parting the cheeks with the pads of his fingers, and ducked his head to take a whiff of his arousal up-close. Keith inhaled deeply. Wet, almost but not quite cloying, musky as a summer bloom. Good enough to taste.

“You’ve the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen,” Keith said in a low, wondering rumble. “Tight and wanting. Pouring slick in preparation for your alpha.”

_“Oh.”_

Lance shook his head in flustered denial, buried it in his arms in counterpoint to the growing arch of his back, the way he was flagrantly displaying himself, wet and ready, for his alpha. And still, the slow, gentle, back-and-forth shimmy of his hips continued. It was a blatant and bewitching dance designed to suck Keith in. His bloodstream was already aflame with the need to mount his consort from behind, cock-to-cunt, but Lance’s hip-swaying was certainly speeding things along. The burn in Keith’s balls intensified and in a distant corner of his mind he registered his gums growing itchy with the urge to sink his teeth into something.

“It would look even better around my cock,” he said, relishing Lance’s shy, pink-cheeked reactions. “Sucking me and my seed inside.”

A faint, scandalised gasp came from his consort, half-muffled in their fluffy sheets. It was proof that Keith’s words were beginning to take their toll, spurring Lance and his body on, plunging him deeper into his blistering heat-haze.

“I’m going to fuck your greedy little pussy open,” Keith vowed in rasping whisper. “Would you like that, Your Highness?”

Lance moaned in assent, his nape a bright, embarrassed red. Words seemed to be beyond his capabilities at this point. Keith loved him like this – flustered and shameless both, blushing beautifully with his sinful little ass presented to his alpha-prince. His for the taking. His, always.

Keith had been – and in fact still is – confounded by the force of his feelings for the writhing, blue-eyed beauty in his bed. Their five month old union, not yet consummated with a mating mark, was the result of King Lotor and King Alfor’s newest political reform efforts. An arrangement of sorts.

Throwing together randomised intra-species couplings in the hopes that love might miraculously blossom somewhere had seemed a little ridiculous, but Keith wasn’t really in a position to question the kings. He would be remiss in his duties as a prince to refuse an Altean match – particularly as one of Daibazaal’s most vocal proponents for peace.

 _You have very little to lose, Your Highness. A trip somewhere tropical might do you some good. What ties keep you here?_ That was what Shiro had said. And Keith didn’t necessarily have to _act_ on the arrangement. No one was forcing his hand. He only had to meet the Altean they’d chosen for him and let himself entertain the idea of mating him. 

If touring Altea for a summer and shaking a foreign prince’s hand were key to ensuring universal peace, Keith would do his part without complaint. It didn’t much matter that these strange little pairings existed to strengthen a political union between two planets. King Lotor had successfully usurped the Galra throne and in doing so, disposed of one of the worst tyrants in history. The war was behind them and marriage seemed a very small price to pay for a Daibazaal-Altea truce.

“We’re still streamlining the Interplanetary Marriage Agreement, you see, so our process might seem a bit crude,” Lotor had explained to Keith before they touched down on Altea, with its rolling, flower-strewn hills and cloudless blue skies, so different from Daibazaal’s dark hues, its many murks and glooms. “I assure you, your patience will be rewarded. Our results thus far have proven extremely promising and we’re optimistic about this arrangement. That said, should you for whatever reason find your consort unsuitable, or he you, we will remove you at once. You might choose to opt out of any further IMA matches, or we could find you someone new – though this is of course only a contingency plan. We very rarely experience failed unions. Our success rate is something like 97.8 percent.”

Keith had not found his consort unsuitable.

He’d been hooked at first glance, riveted where he stood to the unwed prince the moment their eyes met, that probing blue gaze flicking up and pinning Keith in place, running over his darkly gleaming armour and the blade he wore at his waist, lingering at his shoulders and arms. Then Lance folded his hands behind his back and gave a stately little bow, mouth crooking up into something warm and secretive. A sheathed broadsword shone at his back. His cheeks were faintly pink and he peeked up at Keith once more, through his wispy lashes, like he couldn’t help but steal a second glance.

“Hello,” he said in a perfectly clear, chiming voice and rose back to his full height.

Keith would have to stoop slightly to kiss him. Or Lance would have to push up onto his toes. Or both, simultaneously. Keith’s breath wound tangled through his throat. He hadn’t blinked once since stepping inside the palace proper. He felt smugness coming somewhere from the direction of King Lotor and couldn’t even find it in himself to care.

Lance, in all his beaming, dimpled glory, was unlike anyone Keith had ever met.

He was beautiful to begin with, a long-legged, lithesome omega, and only third in line for his father’s throne, had a gaggle of starry-eyed cousins always fluttering around at his back, his own troop of tiny admirers, but he was also clever and disobedient, unshy when it mattered most and endlessly flustered if Keith stared too long, skilled with both bow and sword, gentle when it came to children and animals, excellent on hunts and amiable to all those around him. Athletic enough to hold his own in the few sparring matches he’d shared with Keith, sweaty and grinning, triumphant peals of laughter ringing out the two times he’d caught Keith unawares – a strategic advantage of the beautiful – and wiped him out in the dust.

During their third and final sparring match, Keith had knocked the broadsword from Lance’s grip and wrangled him to the ground with a grunt of victory, pinning him and his flailing limbs still, and only when Lance turned his flushed face into the dirt and said very quietly, “Please, Your Highness, let me up,” did the smell hit the air and Keith realise the prince was leaking slick, the scent distinctly dewy against the aroma of perspiration and grime, his pert little ass nestled against Keith’s groin. Keith’s cock gave a startled throb.

He’d never scrambled up so fast in his life, practically tripping over his feet in his haste to get away, and Lance had been too mortified to look at him, but his choked laughter was audible all the way to the kitchens.

They didn’t much spar after that.

Their whirlwind courtship unfolded Keith’s first month in Altea in the form of shy sidelong glances, secret, slipped notes and ankles brushing under tables, picnics taken in the palace courtyard, afternoon strolls through the surrounding woodland, Lance’s smaller hand in his as he tugged a helpless Keith through the twisting, moss-veiled trees to show Keith his favourite lake, the way the sunlight fell over the flat, lapping surface.

Once, a fistful of wildflowers Keith had ripped from the palace gardens as a gift before he’d known such was frowned upon – “Palace plants are forbidden from being touched by anyone but the royal gardener,” a red-faced steward had stopped to tell him with sheepish distress when she found Keith striding the halls with his uprooted flowers in search of his consort – which had made Lance laugh so hard he cried, his Altean markings twinkling delightedly. Then he’d stood on tiptoe to lay a tender, smiling kiss to the corner of Keith’s stunned mouth.

It had been their first.

When prompted by King Lotor come summer’s end, Keith had hesitated not a moment before confirming he would be staying on Altea for the foreseeable future. He found out the following morning that Lance had given King Alfor the same confirmation.

It was a bit of a waiting game, after that. Waiting and watching and wondering who might buckle first. Keith didn’t like to let custom control him but Altean custom dictated that coupled wolves wait for a heat or a rut – ideally both, cycles synced up – before lying together for the first time and there was something about Lance, sacred and shivery, that made Keith want to roll over and obey. That made him want to give his throat up, flesh surrendered. Keith suspected it was the opposite for Lance: grappling with the desire to disobey, to chase the clash of teeth and tongues, to nip and tackle and defy his alpha.

They were drawing unseen and inexplicable urges and impulses from each other.

Part of Keith wanted Lance any way that Lance would allow. Another wanted to respect ancient Altean custom; wanted Lance in candlelight, caught in the throes of his heat, body easily bent and wracked with watery shudders, possessed with warmth and want and the need to be filled over and over again by Keith’s pulsing cock.

The last and final part of Keith wanted nothing more than the immediacy of the present, of Lance’s lips tugged up into a lopsided smile and his soft, lotioned hands swallowed by Keith’s, his forehead warm beneath the firm press of Keith’s mouth, his laughter smothered against the collars of Keith’s shirts. The small of his back curving to Keith’s claiming palm. This last and final Keith cared less about sex rituals and more about Lance’s immediate happiness.

And so it was this Keith that Lance caught unawares, cornered one morning out of the blue.

A blur of movement came from his left as he emerged from his quarters. All at once, he was being shoved into an alcove. The culprit – warm-palmed and pouting – ignored Keith’s yelp of surprise.

Lance looked sexually frustrated and adorably fed-up with his condition this morning. Keith was so preoccupied with staring at him that he had no time to soften the impact of the shove; his back loudly collided with carved wood. The resulting ache barely registered. Then, closing in and crowding close, he felt Lance’s warmth against his chest, their heartbeats syncing like a positive feedback loop.

His wolf’s haywire senses, his instinct for self-defence, calmed at once. Bloomed warm as a kaleidoscope of butterflies in Keith’s belly. Mate, his wolf sighed, as a loud, excited chant of _mine, mine, mine_ started up in his head. Sometimes sharing space with an animal made it hard to override instinct. This was one of those instances.

Keith watched as a brown hand shot out, yanking a decorative tapestry displaying an ancient Alforian battle across their little den. It plunged them into shadow. The fabric gave a quiet, dust-stirring swish and then they were safely hidden from view, the air still and musty around them.

Keith let his eyes adjust before looking down.

Lance tilted his head and blinked his blue eyes up at Keith like a guilty kitten intent on proving its innocence.

“You …” Keith said, speechlessly.

 _Just ambushed me before our morning meal,_ he’d meant to finish off with, but found the words lost in the faint film of arousal now warping his world.

Lance didn’t speak a word. He simply smoothed a fluttery hand down Keith’s shirtfront to watch Keith’s mouth snap shut with a satisfying click, then quirked him a sexy little smile, dimples shallow and flirting at his cheeks. His palm stopped at Keith’s heart and pressed down to briefly experience its quick, scuttling rhythm. Lance seemed strangely rapturous, eager to drink up proof of Keith’s desire, like he’d thought it might not exist.

An exhale came, perhaps of relief. He looked pleased to have confirmed the effect he had on his alpha. Lance ignored Keith’s questioning gaze and sank slowly to his knees in his leather breeches and brocade cloak like the most glorious gift Keith had ever laid eyes on.

His intentions were suddenly obvious. Keith felt the confused fizz of all his blood pouring towards his cock. He stared down at Lance a little helplessly – his hair still damp from a recent bath, lashes spiky with moisture. At this distance, his scent was a poison dart to the heart. He smelled of juniberry soap and milky arousal, no cologne or false fragrances to dilute him. 

He was soft and small and clean. He was Keith’s. 

Keith swayed on his feet, half-convinced this was a dream. It carried the uncanny irreality of one, that startling edge of fantasy bursting to life in clamouring colour. Much less irreal: its effects on his body. His teeth were elongating, pushing hungrily at his lips in a clear plea from his wolf, whose first and only concern was mating Lance. Keith had greater authority over his body, though. He pushed back against the wolf until it retreated irritably.

Head clear, Keith gave his consort his full attention.

At his feet, Lance softened suddenly into something almost timid, like he’d banished his wolf and was back to being himself, too. He fluttered his lashes uncertainly and reached up to start in on Keith’s breeches. His pink cheeks were giving him away and Keith became abruptly aware of the fact that Lance was a vessel of blood and bones, as much a captive to his needs and desires and longings as Keith.

The realisation was a tremor in Keith. Lance, too, was trembling, so badly that Keith took pity on him and gently batted his hands away, nudging his blushing head up to read his face. He rubbed at Lance’s jaw, eyebrows furrowed. Lance’s winged markings, alight with flustered excitement, gave a happy little twinkle. Unoffended. Eager to welcome Keith’s touch.

Keith’s mouth pulled up into a startled smile. It seemed like Lance was always broadcasting his want, in dizzying neon. He was so open with his desire, gave away all of his reactions without remorse or even a second thought. Not a mask or a false front. Keith had never met someone so completely themselves.

Lance breathed a soft sigh and turned his head into the contact to brush a kiss over Keith’s palm. His eyes were liquid with lust. He looked ready to sing Keith’s praises. He looked ready to swallow him whole.

It was a little intimidating, that sort of power.

“Your Highness,” Keith whispered, pained, as Lance inclined his head and opened his pink, pink mouth like the slow bloom of a juniberry bud.

He took Keith’s callused thumb into that soft, wet mouth with a stinging suck. Keith’s flesh erupted in feeling, smudges of wild sensation that made his wolf whine in disbelief. Lance was peering up at him through his lashes. He swallowed around Keith’s thumb with a wet noise, enclosing the skin in the heat of his mouth.

_Fuck._

Resolve fraying, Keith slipped his thumb free, let the saliva cool over the pad of his finger, then slowly pushed back inside of that needy mouth with his index and middle finger added. A quiet groan escaped him as Lance shut his eyes and sucked harder, mouth wide and messy with spit around all three fingers. He couldn’t help but imagine it now: that pink, pink mouth warming his cock.

“You, ah, needn’t,” he said, to offer Lance an out.

That wiped the expression of serene need right off his consort’s face. His eyes snapped open and he bit down on Keith’s fingers with a tiny, displeased growl.

Keith hissed, tugging the nipped fingers from his consort’s mouth. He set his damp hand against Lance’s jaw, trying to emanate reproof and missing by a wide margin. It was difficult to scold someone so cute.

Lance swatted Keith’s hand away, said, “Move. I want to suck your cock and so I will.”

Keith huffed out an incredulous chuckle, dumbfounded by Lance’s daring. “Right here for the whole palace to hear?”

“Let them listen,” Lance said stubbornly, intent on loosening the complicated braid of Keith’s breeches. “No one on this corner of the planet is likely to miss the way I scream when I’m taking your knot, are they? What’s the point in pretending? Or prolonging, for that matter? I’ve been dreaming of your come in my mouth nearly nightly and I’m not waiting to taste it a moment longer.”

Keith’s tongue felt too thick in his mouth suddenly. _“Nightly …”_ he said, voice strangled.

“I always wake with wet panties,” Lance confessed, dreamy with longing, and Keith’s brain clambered to provide visuals to go along with that, dripping lace and a leaky little hole. “So I am, without question, _fresh_ _out of patience.”_

Keith’s stomach performed an astonished somersault. His cock had been half-hard since Lance’s scent hit his nose but it was fattening up to full-mast now, thoroughly flattered and throbbing desperately. It bulged at his breeches, an obscene lump of flesh stretching at the fabric. He attempted to ignore Lance’s triumphant smirk.

“My wicked, wanton little omega …” he murmured, fingers tight around Lance’s chin. His tone was one of appallment.

“Let me show you the way I want, Your Highness,” Lance whispered, licking his pink mouth till it shone. He worried at his jutting lower lip with the top row of his teeth, looking pouty and impatient.

Gods above. Lance had Keith wrapped around his little finger.

“Y-yes. Okay,” Keith breathed and dropped his hand from Lance’s chin to let him take the lead.

Lance took a bracing breath. His earlier timidity appeared to have shriveled up and died. This version of the prince rallied. He blinked his lashes and let his tongue loll –bright pink and saliva-slick. Then he tilted his head tenderly and leant in to drag it up Keith’s smothered cock, big and bulging through his breeches. The slant of his cheekbones was pure filth.

Keith muttered a low curse, curling his hands into tight fists at his sides to contain the urge to touch. He had no desire to overwhelm Lance or rupture his rhythm, the warm seep of his saliva spreading, soaking through Keith's breeches and dampening his cock. 

“Will you tell me if I’m doing badly?” Lance whispered against his cock, suddenly timid.

“You won’t."

“But …” Lance pulled back to frown up at him. “Romelle said there _is_ a wrong way to suck cock and it usually involves teeth.”

Keith covered his face with his hand to stifle a laugh. So Lance had gone to his friends about this. “To be clear, Your Highness,” he said, dragging his palm down to level Lance with a fond look, “I’m coming in that pretty little mouth of yours whether you use teeth or not. It will make no difference to me right now.”

Lance’s mouth dropped open and a flood of pink spilt over his cheeks.

Gratified, Keith grinned. “I’m not going to grade you during your first time. So just … do what you like. Enjoy yourself. That’s the most important part.”

“I thought _your_ enjoyment was the most important part.”

“No. Sex is about sharing pleasure. Give and take. I want you to give what you like. And take what you like. If it’s good – really good – you might even … it should arouse you, too, that is, pleasuring someone else.”

“I want to give _you_ pleasure,” Lance murmured, nuzzling worshipfully at Keith’s cock, and Keith made a low noise, jaw clenched tight around it.

“And I want to see the pleasure you give me returned,” Keith murmured back.

“It will be,” Lance whispered, lowering his eyes coyly. “I’m ... already wet, Your Highness.”

A quick inhale confirmed it. That sweet, dewy aroma from the dusty sparring ring, the images it had called up, of slick slopped down the cheeks of Lance’s ass, striping past his thighs, dripping down to his ankles. It came stronger and faster here than it had that day, the slow, syrupy drip. Keith could see it so clearly, felt the animal urge to yank Lance's breeches down and bare his wet ass. 

“Fuck. Lance ...”

His breeches fell open then, stunning Keith, who hadn’t been paying very close attention to Lance’s progress. Lance had a way of doing that, though – throwing Keith’s focus off-course with little to no effort. 

Drawing his plump bottom lip into his mouth, the prince jerked Keith’s underwear down, fitting the waistband below his heavy balls. His cock flopped free, stretching up from a dark tangle of pubic hair. Keith knew it looked a little daunting up-close, long and thick and veiny. Lance gave a sharp little inhale as he caught sight of it. Hesitantly, he closed his hand around the shaft. His dainty hand was dwarfed by its length, very nearly failed to close completely around its girth, middle finger and thumb barely brushing. 

The light of his Altean markings, turning their shadowy hideout faintly blue, had not waned once. It flickered and brightened now.

His mouth in that tiny _o_ shape sent a jolt of liquid arousal burning through Keith. It was making his cock harder, huge and flushed and bending up towards his belly, rigid as rock in Lance’s small hand. His balls were throbbing with the need for release.

“It’s big,” Lance said, quiet like he was confiding a secret.

“Yes.” Keith cleared his throat. “Do you … like it?”

Lance sent him a heated look from under his lashes, gaze burning. He dropped a kiss to the head with his wet little tongue and made a, “Mhmm,” sound, thumb stroking at hot flesh.

Keith’s inhales came heavier now, double-quick. He laid a hand to carved wood to brace himself as a new and powerful wave of lust engulfed him. It traveled him like a lurch of electricity, zipping from the heels of his boot-clad feet to the crown of his dark-haired head.

“I want it in my mouth. All the way,” Lance moaned, soft and conspiratorial. “Please, can I taste it?”

 _“Shit,”_ Keith cursed.

"Keithhh."

"Yes, you can taste it," Keith murmured. "Put your pretty mouth on it and suck."

"Mm, okay," Lance whispered.

Keith shoved his knuckles into his mouth to muffle himself as Lance narrowed the circle of his fist, tightening his hold on Keith’s cock. He gave the shaft a few slow, dirty pumps, watching it thicken and leap like a live animal in his hand. Lance lowered his head to slide his mouth over Keith’s balls, tongue out, sucked briefly at them as he pulled at Keith’s cock, grinding the curve of his palm into Keith’s cockhead every other stroke.

“It’s throbbing,” Lance said from his spot at Keith’s dangling balls. “Your cock, I mean.”

“Yes, well, it does that,” Keith gritted out, head thunking against the wall. "I thought I told you to ... _ah_ ... suck."

"You said I can do what I like."

"Fuck ..."

"Is there something in particular you’d like, Your Highness?" Lance teased. "Want me to take my alpha's big cock in my mouth like an obedient little omega now?"

"Lance," Keith growled, eyes flaring yellow.

Lance giggled and Keith shot him a startled look, utterly transfixed. A bead of precome rolled down the reddened tip of his cock. Faster than he could blink, Lance was dipping down to lick it up like a lollipop, pink tongue flashing. His lips closed over the head. He moaned around his mouthful, laving Keith’s fat cockhead with affectionate, kittenish attention, shy and gaining speed.

Keith watched Lance suck his cock and Lance watched Keith watch him suck his cock. It was so intense as to be painful, the shared vulnerability of studying each other during sex.

Lance’s eyes darkened like he liked it and he opened his mouth wider, began taking Keith deeper. He gave the cock in his mouth kissing little sucks that teased at Keith’s nerve-endings, there and gone and there and gone again. No teeth in sight, just those pink, pink lips wrapped around the shaft, shiny and slobbery.

Keith fought against his head’s heavy dead weight, feeling not unlike a zombie. He was brainless, useless, altogether inept, but he refused to miss even a second of this.

Lance kept his eyes on Keith from his spot on the floor as they went shiny with tears of effort, his lashes damp and clumped together. He suckled at the hot, hard flesh with vigour, pillowy little mouth cradling at Keith’s crown. One hand he kept curled around the base of Keith’s big cock to stimulate what he couldn’t reach with his fingers, the other supported against Keith’s thigh.

His cheeks hollowed with an obscenely wet slurp, fingers fisting in the fabric of Keith’s breeches. Spit dripped messily from the corners of his mouth, streaked down his chin and throat, coated his knuckles in a damp sheen, ran down the veins of Keith’s throbbing cock. Keith could feel his cock leaking profusely and Lance licked at it all, hunting after his salty musk, the precome trickling down to his big, sweaty balls. His mouth was all over the place, nipping and swallowing with moist little hitches of breath.

Everything was wet and pulsing – mouth, cock, balls, fingers, eyelashes – and dragging Keith towards a gradual and unwilling end. He felt it knotted at his gut, his aching release ready to gush free. He wanted Lance wetter. Wanted his lashes glued together with come.

Keith held off only by a thin, fraying thread, eyes trained on his consort working away at his wet cock with tiny, determined pleased noises. Lance’s cheeks bulged as he gripped Keith’s shaft tighter, his hand a wet, smearing slide against it. He rubbed Keith’s tingling cockhead around the insides of his mouth in a sloppy suck and hummed.

“Oh. Fuck. Just like that,” Keith panted out. "So good, _fuck._ That perfect little mouth ..."

He tangled his hands in Lance’s hair, mindful of his royal circlet, and followed the movements of his bobbing head. Lance worked his way up to swallowing Keith whole, widening his mouth in slow increments to take more and more of his huge length inside. In minutes, Keith was three-fourths of the way down Lance’s lovely throat and more than ready to empty himself into his mouth.

Like he could sense the end nearing, Lance threw himself into his task, sucking Keith’s cock with feverish, noisy gulps, wet, gagging swallows that rang out in their little alcove like gunshots, no longer censoring himself or his noise-making. It was pure filth. The inherent wrongness of it, of the notion that someone could pull their tapestry back at any moment and discover them like this – a dignified Altean prince down on his knees, taking long, hard alpha-cock into his sweetly innocent mouth – was so hot that Keith’s hips lurched, Lance’s warm throat contracting around his cockhead.

That did it. His balls drew up tight as he inhaled something jagged and came unexpectedly down his consort’s throat.

He pulled out halfway through his orgasm, partly to spare Lance a full load of come down the mouth, partly to finish across his freckles the way he’d been imagining for weeks. His cock jumped in Lance’s grip and Keith grabbed at it, desperate, tugging harshly, watching shots of come arc out of the wet slit. He striped Lance’s face with his release, murmuring a chorus of _fuck, fuck, fuck,_ grunting, fisting his cock as it spurted wildly, spewing warm semen everywhere.

Wet was an understatement. Lance was drenched and moaning, smelled of nothing but semen and his sweet, sweet slick. Drops of come pearled in his lashes, coated his lips and Altean markings, rolled down his sweaty temples in ropes of sticky white.

“Gods,” Keith muttered as he caught his breath, committing the image of his disheveled consort to memory. "Look at you. Filthy little wolf."

A single fleck of come landed on the sapphire-encrusted crown Lance wore at his forehead. Keith swallowed his apology and swiped it away.

The prince sat there and took it like a good little omega, resting on spread knees, his flushed head tilted back. His chest heaved, come-splattered mouth hanging agape. Every inch of him reeked of sex. He flicked his tongue out and licked at what he could reach, clearing globs of come from himself – a splash of white here and there, spattered all over his chin and cupid's bow.

“How does your alpha taste?” Keith whispered, thumbing a droplet from Lance’s cheek and pushing it past his used, swollen lips.

Lance moaned brokenly and sucked at his finger, eyes fluttering shut. There was Keith’s answer. He smelled heavily of his alpha’s spend now, a new arousal layered on top of his own. For once, Keith’s wolf went quiet, sitting back in sated contentment. Keith wished he could snap a picture for posterity. His consort looked absolutely divine. Defiled. Degraded and corrupted, Keith’s warm, salty come consecrating his virgin throat.

“Come here.” Keith pulled his finger free and beckoned at Lance. “Stand up so I can –”

“I already.” Lance averted his eyes and fiddled with the mother-of-pearls at his cufflinks, lashes wet with come. His cheeks went steadily pink. “Um, I came when you did.”

Keith blinked, speech briefly abandoning him. He could smell it now, if he focused his senses and shut out the musk of his own come. It was that same sweet dew, only thicker, richer, smeared between Lance’s thighs.

“What … ?” he said, astonished. “You – untouched? Just from having my cock in your … ?”

“Yes,” Lance mumbled, clearly embarrassed. “You said it would arouse me, too, if it was really good ...”

“Yes, but I didn’t think – _gods,_ come here,” Keith muttered in amazement and pulled Lance to his feet, roughly slotting their mouths together to taste himself on his consort's tongue.

He fucked Lance’s pretty mouth there like ritual now. He liked the dangerous, illicit secrecy of it, the knowledge that they ran the risk of running into wandering royals whenever they engaged in the act somewhere semi-public. Lance’s mouth was soft as sin and his eyes brimmed with tears whenever Keith stuffed him full of cock, lips stretched open around Keith’s girth as he thrusted his fat, curved shaft in and out of Lance’s exquisite heat, hitting the back of his flexing throat like a bullseye with quiet groans.

He always slowed his rutting hips when they heard a courtier or palace attendant nearing, rocking his thick cock into Lance’s drooling mouth in tight, controlled shoves, holding his jaw hinged wide and grinding into the swimming pressure, petting his sweaty bangs back, spit and precome dribbling from his wet mouth as they waited for the Alteans in question to pass.

The wild sex wasn't nearly so sudden, though.

After that first morning in their makeshift alcove, Keith had made a pointed effort to wait for Lance’s heat before they went any further. He held out for three agonising weeks, limiting their sexual contact, determined to meet Lance’s restlessness with patience. Then he’d glimpsed Lance’s perfect, virgin-tight pussy through a pair of ruffled satin shorts he’d tugged on for a quick traipse to the shoreline set just south of the palace. His tight little mound was sitting flower-pretty beneath a pair of tiny chiffon panties that were doing very little in the way of concealing Lance’s plump, unbreached cunt, and when he rolled over onto his belly to reach for his lotion, knees tucked up and body stretched out into a graceful arch, Keith saw those pretty lips peeking past the sheer fabric of his panties and his control shattered.

He had to have Lance, right where they lay on his private, shaded slice of beach. He fucked him nice and rough against the sand, panties yanked crooked – and eventually torn clean off – so Keith's cock could get to him. Lance clutched at Keith's broad shoulders and mewled his happy way through it, ankles crossed behind Keith's back as he fucked Lance's pussy dripping wet. 

The roar he made as he spilled inside of his consort was so loud it startled a nearby flock of birds off. He'd pulled out – cock refusing to flag even slightly – to watch his seed drip from Lance's gaping pussy, then swiftly pushed back inside to plug his consort up, kissing quiet his whines of pleasure.

He'd known Alteans could shapeshift, were prone to tweaking their appearance to blend in or bring comfort, but Lance only ever touched his bottom half, liked to cycle between a cock and a cunt or some combination thereof as whim struck him. For all that he indulged in shapeshifting, though, he seemed to favour his pretty wet folds, loved squirting on Keith's big cock, then getting fucked stupid into his second and third orgasms with teary-eyed screams.

Keith had Lance wherever he pleased after that, heedless of consequences, too gone on his consort to resist his never-ending libido.

Sequestered away between the dusty shelves of the royal library, where he bent Lance over a lacquered desk and fucked into his tight, soaking wet cunt with one hand holding his head down and the other clamped over his fucked-open mouth to quieten his little moans of satisfaction. Perched on Lance's high-backed chair in the throne room after hours while he bounced Lance around in his lap in his ice blue skirts, backed arched beautifully as Keith's massive cock breached his little pussy with wet, jolting smacks over and over again, all while Keith whispered quiet filth into Lance's ear, things like, "What would your kingdom say if they could see their prince right now? Taking his alpha's cock this well? Without even a single complaint?" 

That remained one of the quickest ways to make Lance come.

He'd let Lance ride his clothed thigh to completion in the middle of a boisterous, alcohol-heavy Altean feast. He was draped across Keith's lap like he belonged there, rocking his pussy covertly into Keith's callused hand where he'd slipped it down the front of Lance's skin-tight riding leathers. Keith teased his wet clit and urged him to roll his hips into a silent, thigh-clenching orgasm, his expression unreadable as he watched the festivities unfold and pretended he wasn't rock-hard from Lance's scent alone.

None of their fucking thus far had been aided by a heat, though it was high-time one hit.

None until tonight, when he’d found Lance lying belly-down in their bed, heat-groggy and panting into their sheets, naked but for lace panties.

His wet folds and gorgeous, luscious little ass were swallowing his thong as juices flowed freely from his hungry holes. The panties were white as snow, lewdly cut and edged with scalloped lace. The fabric perfectly framed Lance’s creamy ass, sheer everywhere that Keith could see. It did nothing to cover his consort’s essentials. His pert little ass was hanging from the skimpy lace like a gift from the gods and his sopping pussy was blatant through the translucent fabric, the thong itself half-devoured by his folds.

Keith would never tire of looking at the mound between his consort’s legs: tight, pretty as a primrose, the perfect size for Keith’s cupped palm, fragrant and flushed pink-red, carpeted with a thatch of dark, coarse pubic hair, the puffy nub of his clit and his pussy’s lips glistening gorgeously where he was dripping slick. The crinkled little hole above his cunt was clenching emptily through his panties, desperate to be fucked full.

“Mm,” Keith hummed, hooking a finger inside the thong where it ran parallel to the cleft of Lance’s ass and his pussy.

Lance moaned and wriggled his ass mouthwateringly. In return, Keith delivered a short, reproachful slap to the left cheek that said _‘hold still.'_ He trackedthe way the flesh bounced and bloomed pink, absorbing his handprint. Lance stilled immediately, waiting, a whine on his lips.

Gratified, Keith tugged the pathetic excuse for lingerie taut until the panties were squeezing between Lance’s asscheeks and the shiny lips of his pussy. It forced more slick out from between the fabric squishing into his sticky cunt. Keith loved how it looked – Lance’s pretty pussy suffocated behind the sheer lace of his panties, folds flattened and dripping slick, wetting their sheets and sweetening the air like a heavy, humid mist.

Dazed with cock-throbbing lust and high on pleasure-power, Keith began to slide the lacy fabric through the mess of slick oozing from Lance’s little cunt. Up and down, back and forth. He rubbed the thin band of fabric over Lance’s swollen clit where it was peeking out of its hood, again and again until Lance was whimpering and humping the air, less coordinated than his earlier hip-swaying. His asscheeks bounced from the force. Keith could see his pussy and ass clenching in beautiful unison, burbling near-silent as a forest brook as more slick rushed out. It dribbled from the ruined fabric of his panties.

Like this, he was pure eroticism, sheer sex. Keith wanted to sink inside his satin cunt to the hilt.

“Gorgeous,” he said lowly, slapping Lance’s right asscheek to press a matching handprint to the flesh. He plucked the panties away from his consort’s mound, finally letting his little pussy breathe and leak freely.

The fabric separated from his folds with a small wet noise – a _schelp!_ of sound.

A thin string of slick still connected the panties to his pussy. Fuck, but Keith needed to get his mouth on that beautiful cunt, wanted to suck it dry, to bury his tongue inside its bottomless heat. He shifted the panties aside, baring Lance’s pussy so it sat on full-view. Slick ran from his entrance uninhibited now. He leant in to blow a cool breath over Lance’s folds and watched his entrance flutter open and closed at the mere brush of air. Sensitive as could be, a new stream of slick oozed out. Keith wanted that to be his seed, pearly white against Lance’s pink pussy lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered filthily. “Let it all out for me.”

Lance gave a weak cry and planted his elbows in their sheets, arching his back until his ass was pushing into Keith’s face, wet folds unfurling like flower petals. “Please,” he begged softly, pussy presented like a meal. “Please, oh, please.”

“What do you want, little wolf?” Keith whispered, swiping a callused finger through Lance’s slippery folds.

He looked intoxicating like this.

Keith felt drunk on his image, the radiant heat-glow he wore, the faint, baby blue glimmer of his Altean markings. Lying lushly on their sheets, he looked sun-bronzed, bangs curling damply at his forehead. He was smaller, more vulnerable, softly intimate without his royal circlet, which had been discarded on a bedside table at some point. His soiled panties were jerked lopsided, pussy wet as could be and quivering daintily, trying earnestly to welcome Keith closer.

Hips jittering restlessly, Lance whined. He nuzzled their sheets, no doubt hunting around for Keith’s scent where it was infused into the fabric. The beginnings of a slipshod little nest had been constructed around their bed: a dirty pair of Keith’s undergarments, strong with the scent of sweat, last week’s bath towels lumped together in a pile, his onyx, velvet-lined cloak discarded after his morning horse ride, then thrown into the mix as Lance’s heat hit.

Keith’s wolf was trotting proud, protective little circles in his head. He stroked a fond shape through Lance’s folds, soaking up his resulting twitch of pleasure. Keith could feel saliva gathering on his tongue as he moved the slick around with little wet smacking sounds, collecting it with the pad of his index finger and tracing his way up the crease of Lance’s ass, wetting his path and pushing his finger into his rim like a dirty promise.

“Uhh,” Lance moaned quietly, legs spreading wider and hips cocking back. His ass swallowed Keith’s finger. He was sex-sloppy and half-lucid by now. “Keithhh.”

Keith could tell by the heavy irregularity of his own pulse, coming in druggy throbs, that he’d been sucked under Lance’s spell. The heat pheromones suffused him like a sense-altering stimulant and every nerve-ending in his body seemed to be oriented unerringly towards his consort. Nothing would convince him to leave his omega now. No interruption – no matter the magnitude – would draw him away.

Come rain or shine, he was going to fuck that hungry cunt on his cock.

“Have I ever told you I love how responsive your pretty little pussy is?" Keith murmured, tapping his thumb against the wet bud of Lance’s clit. Not rubbing. Just touching and retreating, featherlight, callused finger separating from pussy with an obscenely wet _pop_ each and every time.

“Once ... or twice, perhaps. _Uh._ Please. Your Highness – K-Keith. Baby. Please, please. I need – oh! – _fuuuccck – !”_ Lance yelled as Keith took back his fingers and leant in without warning, unable to resist any longer.

He sealed his mouth over Lance’s delectable, creamy little cunt, sucking his folds into his mouth with a husky groan.

Lance lay ripe against Keith’s tongue – sumptuous, supple, a bit citrusy. His pussy surrendered to the pressure like satin, flawless and warmly yielding. A biting sweetness flooded Keith’s mouth. It was sharp, startling, with an unfamiliar layer of heat-salt to it. He swallowed at it heartily, thirstily, lapping slick from Lance’s pussy like a summer popsicle.

Lance fisted their sheets and shouted, fangs out, sitting silky-smooth against Keith’s tongue. He was hot and wet as a river bathed vermeil, sunshine-warm. He couldn't stop clenching open and closed. Keith loved him gaping, hot pink, the muscles in his thighs tensing with the effort of holding himself still.

Jaw unhinged and working vigorously, Keith mouthed at his consort’s cunt, working himself between his soft folds, tongue framed between the sweet lips of his pussy. He kept the pressure light and teasing, licking broad strokes through his folds, gauging Lance’s endurance, letting him enjoy the gentle graze of a tongue for a few tender moments.

 _“Oh,”_ Lance cried, short and sharp. “Gods. Y … yes. _Uhh_ … oh … Keith. Love. Yes!”

Keith loved all his little bitten-off noises, wanted more of them. Preening with praise, he began to apply more painstaking pressure to Lance’s pussy, drawing curlicue patterns through his fleshy folds with his tongue as Lance’s hips juddered, sweat-damp head tossed back against their sheets.

A long, musical torrent of moans drifted from Lance’s mouth. His eyes were glazed as a winter lake. Keith gently thumbed the knobs of his hipbones, gaze drawn to the stunning dip of his back, the few light, lustrous stretch marks tiger-striped up his well-muscled thighs, likely formed during a growth spurt post-presentation. They attempted to clamp shut against the intense pleasure; Keith pried them open again, slapping Lance’s ass in chastisement and reveling in his tiny, hushed whine.

Sparks of secondhand pleasure zipped up his spine as he watched his consort slowly but surely unravel beneath his hands and tongue. Most pleasing to his wolf was his omega's pleasure, his thrashing hunger, the blue of his eyes, muddied with want. He liked the scratch of Lance's wiry pubic hair against his mouth, the way he shivered madly when Keith nipped his wet cunt then soothed the sting away with his tongue, tracing through his pussy lips in sloppy circles. The tip of his tongue caught on the hard knot of Lance's clit every other pass, pressing rough flicks here and there.

It was as unmannerly a tongue-lashing as they came, well-suited to Keith and his alpha makeup. Inelegant in places and attentive in others. He made sure to intermittently sprinkle in soft, reassuring caresses, easing his hands down Lance's hips, rubbing his quavering thighs, mouth wide and moaning.

Lance's body responded in kind, fine motor skills dulled some by his heat. His hips rose, then lowered, body fumbling clumsily for his rhythm. Keith tightened his mouth around his cunt and Lance bucked jerkily, turning frantic as Keith lavished his pussy with attention. The trill of his whines were loud as bird-cry.  

Keith's head was a snarl of Lance – Lance's scent, the smooth, endless sweep of his brown skin, his little noises of pleasure.

He fondled the lush cheeks of his consort's ass, gathering speed, and sucked hard, unforgiving, open-mouthed kisses into his little cunt, lips latching onto the silky mound as though sipping from a cool, cobalt fountain. Lance hiccuped loudly, a stutter in his litany of moans, then gasped – a lovely, light-as-breath _oh!_ – as Keith formed an unforgiving point with his tongue. He dragged it against Lance's clit, stroking the little swollen nub mercilessly, seeking a rupture in his consort's reactions.

Above him, Lance shook like a leaf, ripening, turning impossibly wetter, rocking his dripping pussy into Keith’s open mouth with wanton moans. His rhythm had turned sleek and keen as a kitten as he found and focused on his pleasure, taking and taking and taking. With wild little jerks of his hips, he rode Keith’s tongue, ass jiggling beautifully, yanking on his panties to ground himself. The white lace dug into his brown cheeks obscenely. Groaning, Keith suckled on his fat clit, rolling it around inside his mouth, showering it with attention like a man made ravenous.

His wolf was not to be reasoned with. He was growing louder, more unruly, greedier than Keith was used to, single-mindedly seeking his consort’s pleasure.

He wanted Lance gushing against his tongue. The thought brought a dark rumble of want to Keith’s mouth. He let it free, eyes yellowing with desire. The sound – or scent, perhaps even the yellow-eyed signal from his rutting wolf – drew something magnificently, unfamiliarly submissive from Lance. His moans softened once more into tiny, sugar-sweet mewls, head tilting sideways to expose himself. A long, sweat-gleaming stretch of throat opened up, offered to Keith in a blatant mating invitation.

It was as good as a beg. A declaration of intent. Of unconditional trust. The throat was an alpha's optimal killspot, the easiest place to fasten a jaw and _break,_ and here Lance was, giving his up to his alpha.  _I am yours,_  the gesture said.

 _Take me,_ it said.

And, well. That, paired with the way he had Lance pinned and squirming, wet pussy given up ... that was enough to make Keith's knees buckle.

He growled his approval, pried Lance's ass open and plunged his tongue in, firming it, sliding it through his consort's folds, circling the pink rim of his pussy. Here was Lance's reward. Keith dipped inside, teasing halfway into Lance's entrance, wiggling his tongue into his narrow passageway. He backed off suddenly, right as Lance broke out into a long, purring moan, to return to his clit, tasting it slow and sweet. He swirled his tongue over it. Then back to his entrance he went. Then his clit again, in a dizzying, pleasure-drunk pattern.

"Ohhh ... gods. I'm – I'm going to. Keith. Keith! Baby. Going to ... _huh_ ... come. I'm – uhh – coming – !" Lance cried, trying to twist away from Keith's tongue.

He fought against Keith's grip, strong as a serpent, but Keith held tight to him. Lance loved fighting for his orgasms and Keith loved indulging his stubborn little omega. He wasn't letting this one go. Not ever. He dragged Lance's bottom-half bodily from the bed like he weighed nothing. Biceps bulging with the strength of his hold, his eyes glowing an insatiable yellow, Keith hoisted Lance up, practically dangling upside down in his arms. He angled his sweet pussy against his mouth, Lance's soft, thick thighs wrapped around Keith's ducked head, his calves crossed in the air. 

Lance caught himself against the mattress, hands flung out haphazardly, and finally submitted, rolling his hips into the dazzling pressure with a cry. The effect was a messy smear, pussy wet against Keith's lips. He latched onto his consort's folds anew, honing in on his sensitive clit and closing his mouth over it with a powerful snarl. His tongue teased the nerve-endings as Lance screamed and clawed at the sheets, pleasure peaking. 

His body – beautiful, lithely bent and stretched up towards Keith's mouth, covered in coiling, lit-up markings in his trademark blue – tightened up all over, stomach sucking in with the force of his coming climax. It rose up and yanked him under like the summer tide, his pussy fluttering wildly against Keith's questing tongue. 

Slick filled his mouth in an unfathomable, thirst-quenchingly wet rush, sweet with orgasm. Lance had never tasted so rich. Keith groaned appreciatively and swallowed it all down, his cock aching in his breeches. He smoothed his hands down his omega's shaking thighs, carefully lowering him back to their bed. Mouth gentling, he kissed the come from Lance's honeyed cunt, his pussy still vibrating with the urge to be fucked. Lance twitched from oversensitivity, moaning feebly into a pillow. 

He wouldn't be satisfied until he'd been filled and knotted, but he deserved a small rest period regardless.

Keith's mouth separated from Lance's pussy with a wet sound, gentle as rain. He sat back on his haunches and studied his blissed out consort, flopped over bonelessly in bed and slowly recovering from his climax. He was still catching his breath, gone glassy-eyed. His cunt looked raw, dewy, dripping wet. His panties had dug little welted impressions into his flesh. Keith was surprised they were still intact.

Up and down his ass, across the dimpled small of his back, faint marks danced, pressed into his brown skin like thumbprints of pressure. These were all the places where Keith had perhaps gripped Lance a hair too tight, marked-up regions that stirred something both apologetic and smugly, possessively satisfied from him.

Miraculously, his consort's cunt looked ready to go again. His refractory period, normally ten to fifteen minutes, had been cut in half by his heat. His gorgeous pussy was beginning to dribble new slick, giving fresh, candied fragrance to the air.

"More," Lance demanded into their sheets just then, tone petulant, his bangs plastered to his temples with sweat. A pretty flush sat high up on his cheeks. He looked beautiful and sulky in equal measure. "Keith," he whined. "Want more."

Keith chuckled, not offended in the slightest, his yellow eyes calming back to their cool indigo. "Was my tongue really so inadequate? My little one still needs more ... ?"

"Your tongue is good. So, so good to me. Want it so much," Lance babbled in a small voice, snuggling drunkenly into his pillow. "Love your tongue, Keith."

"I seem to sense a 'but' coming."

Lance turned his head and giggled into his pillow. Keith hadn't thought to wonder if his consort was a giggly omega under the influence of a heat, but he regretted not doing so now. This was – unexpectedly exhilarating, like the first time they'd shared a chalice of mulled wine together, heads fuzzy as they stumbled their way through the darkened halls with the gracelessness of a pair of snickering teenagers.

Keith's chest felt full, tight and aching. He leaned down, growling playfully into his consort's ear. "If your reviews are anything less than glowing, I'd like to know, Your Highness."

Lance giggled harder, face hidden.

Keith bit his cheeks to stop a smile in place. "King Alfor will have my head if my omega is unsatisfied with me, you know."

"Nooo," Lance said, twisting free to look at Keith with his heat-foggy eyes. "Please don't tell Alfor. I like your head where it is."

"What exactly am I not telling Alfor?" Keith asked, amused.

Lance made a tiny 'come hither' gesture.

Keith quirked an eyebrow, humoured his heat-drunk omega, and leaned down another inch.

"Don't tell him that I like your cock more than your tongue," Lance whispered furtively, hand curled around Keith's skull to keep him at eye-level.

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yes," Lance sighed, a dopey smile gracing his pretty lips.

"Then I suppose we can do away with my tongue all together from now on."

"N–no!" Lance blurted, fisting an alarmed hand in Keith's hair. "Okay, then I change my mind. I want both."

Keith laughed quietly, scraping his teeth across the curve of Lance's jaw. "My greedy little wolf."

"Baby," Lance whispered, eyes fluttering shut. He angled his head into the contact with a pleased sigh. "Need you."

"What do you need, Your Highness?" Keith murmured, shuffling closer on bent knees and closing the distance between him and his recumbent consort. "Need to be fucked on this cock? Hm ... ? Need to be fucked like a good little slut?"

"Uh-huhhh," Lance moaned, half-delirious. 

Keith had found his consort's need for both praise and degradation a little perplexing at first, but now knew that this was the nature of Lance. He was a versatile lover, could flit between domineering and deferential in the same night, loved a rough smack as good as a tender touch. It made him unpredictable, easy to please and difficult to pin down all at once. He was a collection of contradictions. Keith loved it. 

“And what do you say?” he prompted, teasing.

“Fuck me, please,” Lance whined, reaching a hand back to part his wet pussy for it. “Need your big cock.”

_“Fuck.”_

Keith's gut squeezed, cock pulsating with an immediacy he found alarming. He rose up behind Lance, kneeling tall and imposing, to begin unfastening his breeches with a ferocious, teeth-grinding growl. Lance shivered from the force of it, baring the column of his unblemished neck once more. Keith's instincts mellowed at once, his wolf appeased by Lance's show of submission.

He nosed at his consort's neck, carefully avoiding his scent gland. His smell was concentrated here, strongest behind the ears and redolent of Altea's rain-damp thickets. He snuffled against Lance's drumming pulse, tongue darting out to taste the skin of his sweaty throat.

Lance whined, giving his neck up to Keith.

"Big cock is so hard for you, baby," Keith whispered, breath heavy. "Do you like that?"

"Mmm," Lance hummed pleasantly. He looked as languid as Keith had ever seen him, the blink of his lashes slow and relaxed.

"Words, Lance," Keith murmured.

Lance reached back to curl a hand in Keith's hair, nails scratching gently at Keith's scalp. "Love your big cock," he said in his soft whine. "Please put it inside me. 'M so empty without your knot."

A growl slid from between Keith's clenched teeth. He parted his lips, opened his jaw to close it over a patch of skin at Lance's neck. Lightly, without intent to break or make bleed, his teeth digging in with care. 

The feeling of his canines on that erogenous zone, so sensitive to stimulation, was more than enough to rile his consort. Lance's hand fell away from Keith's head and he cried out, eyes screwing shut. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Keith could feel his heartbeat ratcheting up. His was clamouring to catch up, chasing his omega's reactions.

"Need you as wet as possible so I can fuck your tight little cunt just right," Keith pulled back to say. He tongued Lance's bite calm. A precursor to the mating mark he would soon wear. Keith eyed the spot he'd picked for himself and slid a wandering hand between his consort's legs, playing with his heavenly little pussy to urge more slick from its pink folds. Lance rocked his hips against Keith's fingers, moaning. "That's right. Just like that. Get yourself wet for me."

"I am," Lance whined sulkily into their sheets. He trailed his finger through his pussy's soaking lips as proof, bumping clumsily against Keith's exploring hand along the way. Keith stroked over his consort's knuckles and together they shared the space, the dampness, rubbing in tandem. "Please, Keith. 'M so wet for you."

He was drooling juices with reckless abandon now, cunt ready to take Keith's cock like a glove. Keith's wolf was itching to get free. Keith could feel it in his balls, in the way they were tightening up at his groin, heavy with seed.

"Shit," he whispered, more to himself than Lance. "I could look at your pretty pussy all day, baby. Just begging to take my cock."

"Oh, yesss," Lance moaned, rubbing small circles into his wet clit with his shaking finger. "Please, please, please. Please give me your cock. Want your knot, want it so badly. Your Highness ..."

Keith jerked Lance's hand away from his pussy, pinned it to the mattress in an ironclad grip and slapped his perky little ass, hard and biting. The cheeks trembled, colouring pink-red from the force of the smack. "Such a good little cockslut," he crooned, tracking the mewl Lance sent him in reply. "How does that feel? Huh? Having your naughty little ass spanked ... ?"

Lance panted, mouth open, canting his hips back for more. "Feels ... uh ... good, Your Highness."

"The next time you come," Keith said, releasing Lance's wrist to slap his ass again, watching it bounce beautifully against the cradle of his groin, "it'll be around your alpha's cock."

"Mm," Lance hummed, splaying his hands against their sheets and swishing his hips in that desperate, lurid sex-dance of his, pussy letting out soft little wet noises.

"Going to take good care of you," Keith whispered.

"Yes, please," Lance whispered back, eyes drifting shut. "Thank you, Your Highness."

Keith huffed a laugh. "There's no need to thank me for something I want to do, beautiful," he said and stretched a hand out to cup Lance's wet cunt in his palm. "Would kill to do, in fact."

Something half-gasp, half-groan came from his consort.

"This pussy is mine," Keith murmured, "you understand that?" 

Lance nodded feverishly into his pillow.

"Good," Keith said, using his other hand to tug his sweat-soaked shirt off.

He made to toss it behind himself, then thought better of it and added the garment to Lance's little heat-nest. Lance's blue eyes, now open, tracked the movement with rapture. Keith smiled and reached into his breeches to free his fat, cut cock and heavy balls. He let them spring out, cock bobbing. It thwacked up against his belly where it stood ruddy and heavy with blood. The tip was wet, already ready for his omega's perfect little pussy.

Keith made a circle with his fist and slowly, lazily fucked his cock into the narrow passage, stroking himself an impatient red. Dewy drops of precome formed at the slit. They ran down his hefty, arcing length, following his bulging veins down to his balls.

Lance chewed his lip and watched this happen hungrily from his spot against the pillows and sheets.

"Fuck your ass with your fingers," Keith decided on impulse. 

He petted Lance's pussy and stroked his engorged cock with either hand. His shaft began to pound in time with his lust-heavy pulse. The base was beginning to ache in proximity to his consort's inviting little cunt. His knot wouldn't form fully until he'd sunken into Lance's tight heat, but he could feel the way it wanted to fatten up, lock himself inside of Lance's pussy.

The blue-purple veins of his cock stood stark against the flushed flesh, its monstrous, ten inch length sliding in and out of his fist as he panted and watched his omega’s pretty little pussy ooze slick against his fingertips. He coated his fingers with it, rubbed it into his balls, rolling them around his palm as he tugged roughly on his shaft.

At his knees, Lance moaned breathlessly and complied, lashes flickering. He reached back to work two fingers into himself, wiggling his hot little hips to help them along. Within moments, they were disappearing into his gorgeous, plump little ass. His pussy, peeking out of panties pulled askew, looked ripe and ready to be claimed.

"Tight fit, is it?" Keith taunted, speeding the hand he had on his girthy cock until it began making noisy wet slaps. His hand was a blur over its huge, swollen length.

Lance splayed his legs open further, nearly lying in a split. The scent of his arousal spiked indecently even as he hid his embarrassment in his arm. He pillowed his blushing face against it, pumping his fingers in and out of his drooling hole with tiny, pitiful moans. Keith could hear his thundering pulse, quick as the beat of bird's wings. There was no sound more musical.

“If you can’t take two fingers, how are you going to take my cock, gorgeous?” Keith said, groaning his approval as he watched Lance finger-fuck himself open.

He pumped his shaft quicker, balls tight and tingling, wringing dripping precome from his cock’s helmeted head. He was imagining his come leaking out of Lance's pink pussy with lightheaded wonder when his consort finally broke his silence.

"I can take it," he protested, voice whiny, and then, as if to prove himself, he angled his ass higher in the air and fucked himself harder, louder. _"Oh."_ He buried his face in the sheets, a long, worked-up moan issuing from his bitten-red mouth.

“You can take this inside your tight little cunt, baby?” Keith whispered, stroking his thick cock right up against Lance’s pulsing pussy.

With casual nonchalance, he rubbed his bulbous cockhead through the sticky folds. He exhaled raggedly at the satin-soft feel of Lance against his shaft, cloaking his hard length. He'd only meant to give Lance a taste of what was to come and already he felt staggered by the sensation of his cock sitting hot and hard inches from his omega's entrance. Lance didn't seem all that unaffected himself; his pussy was flexing open like it wanted to suck Keith right in.

"Mm, yes," Lance moaned.

He tossed a sexy, low-lidded look over his shoulder. His eyes, muddled with pleasure, trailed down Keith's leanly-muscled chest, now sheened with sweat, trying and failing to locate his big, jutting cock where it was rubbing softly against Lance's tender pussy, mopping up and redistributing all his slick.

The bow of Lance's back deepened as he pressed his wet cunt harder against Keith's cock, rolling his hips into the teasing pleasure. More slick seeped from his little pussy. His mouth dropped open on a whine, fingers still going at his ass, as he hurried his pace. His rocking hips and stroking fingers were one single rhythm. Brows furrowing in pain, he shoved the fingers of his free hand into his mouth, muffling himself. He sucked them in and out, lewd as a cock, as he rode Keith's shaft.

Keith watched his cheeks hollow with a gagging slurp. A coil of tight, shimmering heat twisted his belly hotly.

"Fucking hell. Going to stuff you full to the fucking brim," he breathed, mashing his cockhead into Lance's clit and massaging it swollen.

Lance cried out around the fingers in his mouth. The ones in his ass slowed some, rhythm disrupted by the new distraction. His hips bucked against the sweet, torturous stimulation coming from his clit.

“What’s the matter, Your Highness?” Keith whispered, affecting innocence and kneading Lance’s pussy wet with his fat cockhead.

Lance’s moans came louder, high and dulcet-sweet. The fingers in his mouth garbled the beautiful sound though, so Keith tugged them free, set his consort’s limp, spit-shiny hand beside his sweaty head. He stroked the bangs back from Lance’s clammy forehead to uncover his blue eyes fully, intent on their aroused glitter.

“Inside me. Inside me, Keith,” came from Lance’s newly freed mouth in a panting beg, breath sobbing out of him.

“Keep fucking your ass,” Keith whispered, steadying his thick cock with a hand around the base and slotting it between Lance’s dripping folds.

It fit against his pussy lips tight and snug, Lance blanketing his shaft with his damp, all-encompassing heat. Keith’s cock wasn’t pushing inside, was only wedged warm and cosy between the gap in his consort’s thighs, half-swallowed by his folds. In any case, it felt like pure nirvana, looked pornographic where his cock was protruding lewdly from his groin, semi-hidden against Lance’s wet cunt.

Groaning, Keith pulled his hips back, then pushed them forward, propelling his big cock into the dripping wetness, fucking between Lance’s pussy lips, right into his slick. The motion sluiced his shaft, wetting it up, covering it with Lance’s liquid desire. His omega whimpered quietly, breath stirring the gauzy canopy covering their bed.

“Fuck,” Keith muttered, the filthy sweetness tightening his abdomen in a breath-drawing clench. If _this_ felt as good as it did, he couldn’t imagine what it’d feel like to actually pierce a heat-drunk Lance open on his cock. “Shit. Ah. Your pussy feels so good against my cock. Ha … _ah_ … fuck. Ah … yes. Lance … need to be inside you so badly.”

Lance fucked his fingers into his ass faster, eyes fluttering shut against the black, dilated spill of his pupils. He moaned dazedly, the sound a tiny vibration against Keith’s cock.

“You want my fat cock inside you, baby?” Keith panted, fucking between Lance’s pussy lips with little smacking noises, his veiny cock now drenched in slick.

“Uh-huhhh,” Lance whined, his pussy trembling yearningly.

“How badly?” Keith growled, slapping his hard cock against Lance’s little cunt.

“So badly, baby, please,” Lance begged, biting down on a new moan and yanking the fingers from his ass to position himself perfect, on his hands and knees, pussy on display for his alpha.

“Going to make a mess of your pretty little pussy,” Keith promised, chest heaving as he angled his thick cock upright.

With his fist curled around the base, he traced the tip through Lance's shiny folds, taking his sweet time. He painted swirling strokes against his consort's puffed-up clit and nuzzled Lance's throat in a silent question, seeking his scent gland. Lance whined and bared his neck, sinking his fingers into Keith's crow-dark hair to urge him towards the juncture of his neck and shoulder. 

Keith tended to save this part for last for a reason. Scenting Lance drove his wolf wild, dialled his instincts up to their highest setting. And sure enough, as soon as he glimpsed Lance's scent gland, he felt a growl pull his lips back over his teeth, canines exposed. His wolf's babbling chant of  _mine, mine, mine_  rose up as it always did in proximity to Lance's jugular. Keith nosed his way over, gently rubbing into his consort's gland to disperse his scent. 

Lance laid there and took it, moaning softly, his fingers tight around a fistful of Keith's hair. 

Keith gave a pleased rumble, gruff with desire, and pulled up to pepper Lance's neck with kisses, letting his scent do its job. It curled around Lance like a winter quilt, coalescing with his consort's natural aroma in a blend of muggy rain. Sweet and salty both. His omega smelled as he should. As he would, once Keith worked his jaw open and bit down, just there. 

"My turn," Lance muttered with grumpy impatience.

Keith chuckled and lifted his chin, waited with a smile on his lips as his omega tugged him down to burrow into his throat with a drowsy purr. The bridge of Lance's small nose brushed over Keith's scent gland. Slowly, gingerly, he began to knead himself into Keith's neck like a claim. Keith's wolf hummed, luxuriating in the attention. He was out of his mind with syrupy pleasure, could feel Lance's sweetness gently suffusing him.

It was the full-bodied fusion of their intermingling scents that drove Keith forward in a mind-numbing, teeth-gnashing haze – Lance’s sweet citrus against his own salty musk, twined together like a vow, like a promise, like perfect harmony between two contrasting chemicals or elements. Combined, they created something greater, something more ambrosial.

Breath coming in shallow bursts, Keith knocked Lance’s knees apart. He squeezed his hip quickly and comfortingly as he began to slowly guide his fat cock inside the tight, hot crawlspace of Lance’s little cunt. Beneath him, Lance was visibly shaking. His body was softly pliant, willing in spite of the high, helpless whimpers coming from his throat.

The sound did something funny to Keith’s brain chemistry. It was like a mating call had been sung, then answered. His cock responded to it, swelling desperately. Arousal pooled in his belly as his shaft hardened, enlarged, stretching Lance’s walls out. He was only halfway inside his consort and his cock was being smothered, squeezed uncontrollably. A pained growl slid through Keith's teeth.

Then, as if in instinctual, pleasure-happy submission, Lance's pussy relaxed the final inch to allow Keith's thick cock entrance.

His growl dissolved into a sigh as he slid home to the hilt, pelvis colliding with Lance’s ass. Keith gave a punched-out groan, hunching over the obedient lump Lance made in their bed. His consort mewled in answer, burying his rosy face in a pillow. His pointy ears, usually adorned with dangling diamonds, were a burning red.

Keith's head swam. Lance's pussy was unfathomable, clinched tight around Keith's shaft as though to cage him in. Keith loved it, took a moment to himself to savour the way his big cock was being strangled. He grinded unthinkingly into the wet suction – just a little nudge of his hips, light and reflexive – and earned himself a pretty, fabric-muffled keen from his consort, whose pussy was pure velvet around all ten inches of Keith's alpha-cock.

Keith swiveled his hips once more, trying to relieve the ache from his cock with a groan. Nothing but give. Endless, silken give. 

 _"Ohhh, please,"_ Lance moaned into his pillow, cunt swallowing Keith's length like a cramped little tunnel. 

“Fuck,” Keith hissed, heat throbbing selfishly in his gut. The mounting need to fuck – hard, unkind – rose in him like an ocean-blue wave. Before the lust could consume him completely, he gritted out, “You are … beautiful. Doing so well. Lance. Let me see your face, gorgeous. Quickly. Before I lose myself.”

Lance twisted his face free of his pillow with a hot gasp, staring at Keith over his shoulder, mouth open. His blue eyes were blazing, lust-blown. His tight, compact little body lay stretched out like a feast, curves endlessly sloping beneath Keith's sword-rough fingers. A flush was sweeping up him at about the same time that a bashful whine escaped his mouth. The dual-reaction was so gorgeous Keith had to kiss it from his lips.

He leant down to catch Lance’s mouth in something messy and off-centre, their teeth clacking in their hurry to taste each other. Lance’s eyes fell shut, lips opening for the kiss as easy as a flower. He accepted Keith’s tongue inside with a tiny little moan.

“Going to mark you up with my teeth,” Keith whispered into his consort’s mouth, voice coming out gritty and unused. “You’re going to be mine when I'm done with you. You're going to wear me on your neck so everyone knows. Every last living soul in this galaxy."

Hot shivers danced down Lance’s spine. He tilted his firm little ass up with a moan, wriggling desperately. “Yours,” he whined, pussy tightening up around the cock inside of him.

Keith groaned, rocking forward an inch. Trapped inside of Lance, his cock felt cradled. His omega's pussy was wet and pulsing, drenched and dripping incessantly around the hot intrusion. Keith panted, ducking down to press his mouth to Lance’s again, desperate to feel his little moans against his lips. They lay trading deep, biting kisses, drowning in sensation, their sticky, sweat-gleaming skin stuck together as their bodies adjusted and readied for the fucking to come.

He hadn't imagined their first heat like this. He'd thought his wolf too ravenous, too greedy to stop and savour the pleasure. Too powerful to override. Yet here they lay, easing their tender way into it with eyes wide open. 

Keith sprung into action, drinking up these final few moments of clarity. He sucked furious lovebites into Lance's skin, mottling brown with purple, mouthing at his giggling omega's unmarked flesh.

"Mine," he murmured drunkenly, finally giving voice to his wolf. He dug his teeth into the meat of Lance's left shoulder. _"Mine, mine, mine."_

"Keith ..." Lance panted, snickering into his pillow.

This. This was it. Keith couldn’t imagine anything more intimate. It was already his favourite memory with Lance and it wasn’t even over yet.

Exultant, he leant forward to bite Lance’s bottom lip, tugged it into his mouth and suckled. Lance moaned and his pussy squeezed down on Keith’s cock like it was responding to Lance’s heart-thrumming happiness. The tight flex-and-release massaged a new series of shivers from Keith’s cock. It prompted a little lurch in his hips, more powerful than he’d intended. The momentum sent Lance sliding a couple inches up their bed, their mouths knocked apart, kiss broken.

A displeased, high-strung moan came from his consort.

Keith caught sight of his cock spearing halfway inside of his omega, no longer fully sheathed. He growled unhappily and shoved forward without thought, slamming home again. Lance cried out, jolting. His pussy was a heady kind of sweltering, hot to the touch. Keith hissed around the violent pulse of his cock, already beginning to flare at the base.

“Fuck. I’m … so sorry,” he panted, pressing his sweaty forehead to Lance’s spine to collect himself and his aching cock, the jumble of his heat-drunk brain.

“Keith …” Lance said softly, breathing laboured.

Keith tilted his head, fixing his beautiful omega with a questioning glance.

Lance stroked the sweaty bangs back from Keith’s eyes, the angle awkward, uncomfortable. He was staring at Keith as best he could, expression enamoured. It sent a frisson of unexpected heat shooting through Keith, had his hands tightening where they were curled, white-knuckled, around their silk sheets.

“Let go and fuck me,” Lance whispered, the last puddle of lucidity welling, then vanishing from his eyes as he turned his head back into his pillow to sway his way through a new, powerful wave of arousal.

It had pulled him under, Keith knew.

His consort's sharp, nymphlike profile turned plaintive, pleading. He took a bracing breath and gripped their wooden headboard for support, curvaceous little ass rising. He angled a beseeching look at Keith from beneath his lashes, spread his thighs and tipped his head to the side to flaunt his flawless throat. Keith could tell that he was caught in the throes of heat by his own inability to swallow his growls. By the way his consort's scent was deepening, sharpening unbearably. He could only describe it as falling mist, dew on rain forest fronds, the citrus spray that arose from peeled fruit rinds.

It was Lance at its heart: warm, inviting, irresistible. 

Keith felt deeply dumbstruck, the intense, free-falling sensation that had tugged at his gut the first time he saw Lance replicated and reproduced tenfold. His balls swelled, gums tingling as his fangs pushed past his lips, eyes bleeding yellow. His wolf was tired of waiting.

“I … _oh_ … can take it. Want you so badly. Want your mark,” Lance said, lashes flickering. His markings were burning bluer than Keith had ever seen them. “Want your come … _huh_ … I – need it. Please. Come inside me, alpha. I'll be so good for you. Going to give you so many pups. Promise.”

Those last few sentences, in Lance’s high, lilting whine, were so maddening they drew the claws from Keith’s hands. He curled his fists against the sensation, burying and ripping into the mattress to contain his own violence and keep his omega from harm’s way. The rut-induced aggression ebbed enough to allow the claws to retract, but it was still there, dormant and spreading, vibrating under Keith’s skin, blurring his vision at the edges. He caught Lance’s slight hips in his hands, hard and bruising.

With a rippling growl, Keith circled his hips, grinding his cock into the glorious pressure of Lance’s wet heat with a groan. “Pussy is so tight, baby,” he grunted darkly, voice barely recognisable behind its subhuman rumble. “So fucking tight around my cock. Gods. Fuck.”

“Uhhh,” Lance moaned, knuckles pale where they were clutching at their headboard, his gorgeous, bouncy little ass offered. “So full. Feel so full.”

“You like that?” Keith asked, drawing his hips back until his cock slid out of Lance’s constricting cunt to the head, then snapping forward to fuck back inside his hot cavern with a loud, startling, wet _slap._ “Like being stuffed full of this thick fucking cock? Hm?”

Lance jerked forward from the force of Keith’s thrust, bracing himself against their headboard with a high, keening cry. “Fuuuck!” he cried. “Yes! Fuck me!”

Keith didn’t need to be told twice.

He filled his hands with the rounded cheeks of Lance’s ass, digging crescent moons into the flesh, and pulled out to the halfway point, then fed his cock back into Lance’s pussy with punishing deliberation. White stars to burst behind his eyes as he sped his thrusts, fine and glittering. A slew of whiny pleas came from his consort’s mouth, drawing a singular, one-of-a-kind hunger from Keith, dark and sinuous.

He was panting, working himself up to a rough rhythm, pouring strength into his thrusts, letting the pressure turn luminous. Lance’s pussy hugged him hotly, sliding around Keith's cock with little wet noises. His cock, large and growing larger, was ramrod straight, hard as steel where it was burrowed inside of Lance.

“So” – punctuated by a hard thrust – “fucking” – and another – “good.”

Lance moaned unevenly, bowing to the pressure, his back dimpling up. His glossy, sex-swollen folds were split open around Keith’s girth. Keith groaned at the sight, pounding into Lance’s little pussy harder. His cock sunk inside his consort’s heat like butter, slid out just as smoothly. The sensation was delicious, cataclysmic – Lance’s cunt gripping Keith only to let go abruptly, expanding around his swelling cock, then squeezing down tight and vice-like without warning as Keith buried himself between those bouncing cheeks over and over again.

Animalistic growls poured from his mouth as he impaled Lance on the thick root of his cock, jarring his little body. Lance was letting out a nonstop soundtrack of hiccuping moans, distorted by the movement of Keith’s frenzied thrusts. The sweet ooze of his pussy had mixed with Keith’s musk at some point, was recreating what their scenting already had. A pungent brew of bittersweet balminess filled the room. It sat around them like heat humidity, only served to further intensify Keith’s need, his pounding, throbbing cock working away at Lance’s beautiful little cunt.

“Don’t stop,” Lance moaned, bouncing his hips and clenching his pussy. “Baby. Harder. Fuck me! Oh! _Fffuck – !_ Keith!”

On impulse, Keith heaved Lance into his lap, upright and arching. He hiked his sweaty legs up so his knees were bent against his chest, feet flat against their mattress. Like this, Keith could bounce his omega on his girthy alpha-cock, arms locked around Lance's little waist. The angle was better somehow, tighter, more precise. Keith groaned, pistoning away at Lance's pussy, his neck corded with the effort of his thrusts. 

The slick pressure was so good it sat against Keith's gut like a brand, prompted him to lean forward and nibble Lance's ear. This time, his growl came out low and vicious, drew a matching mewl from his consort. He bared his neck for Keith.

“Let me see those tight little tits, baby,” Keith breathed, and Lance arched up in his lap, pushing his flat chest into Keith’s roaming hands.

Keith made an approving noise, low in the throat, and palmed Lance’s nipples as he fucked into his hungry little cunt. He squished the flesh between his hands, tweaking the pebbled nubs until they were puffy and eliciting tiny, protesting whines from his consort. Lance’s head lolled dizzily against Keith’s shoulder. He looped his arms behind Keith's head to tug on the hair at Keith’s nape. The yank of pressure burned behind Keith’s ribs, had him thrusting up harder, his heavy balls slapping against Lance’s pussy with loud, fleshy smacks.

“Made to be fucked on my cock,” he whispered, driving into Lance’s dripping wet pussy with dark growls. “So perfect.”

Lance’s breath came faster, melted into a choked cry as Keith ploughed into the warm cocoon of his cunt faster. Slick pooled steadily from his pussy. The slick yield was heaven around Keith’s cock. Lance's cunt moulded to the shape of his shaft, enveloped him in boundless, blossoming wet heat.

Keith’s thrusts, once sleek, began to dissolve, unraveling, roughening up, jolting Lance in his lap. They became erratic, irregular, harsh. He tightened his arms around Lance’s midsection, held him pinioned to his chest, and drew strength from his planted knees. His hips did most of the work, jostling Lance about, pussy hauled up and down his cock. Their bodies joined with loud, wet _slap, slap, slap_ sounds, Lance's pussy pouring slick around Keith's cock.

His brown arms squeezed down tight around Keith's neck. Too ineffectual to choke Keith, strong enough to make him groan. His consort clung to him desperately as he was bounced around in Keith's lap, the wet walls of his cunt beginning to convulse against the white-hot pressure.

"Oh ... fuck me ..." Lance moaned.

"Harder?" Keith panted, increasing the force behind his thrusts.

"Yes! Right there! Fuck me right there! So good! Oh, gods. Keith ... _huhh_ ... _oh ... please, please, please,"_ Lance whimpered.

Keith made a dark noise, fucking forcefully into Lance’s folds. “You like my big cock in your tight, slutty little pussy, baby?”

“Mhmm,” Lance moaned, ass clapping against Keith’s thighs and balls.

His cunt tightened up around Keith’s cock anew. Narrower than Keith was used to. Or maybe his cock was getting bigger. His vision swam, white spots dancing behind his eyes.

_Shit._

He could feel the urgent burn of his knot, growing, taking shape, tightly-coiled and quickly expanding outward like an unavoidable explosion of sensation. It began to slow the speed of his thrusts, massaging Lance’s pussy wider. Lance keened, hungry cunt clutching at Keith’s cock.

“Fuck,” Keith growled, slapping Lance’s ass, watching his cheeks jiggle around his ramming cock. “Going to fill you up. Breed you nice and full. Fuck my seed into your gorgeous little pussy and knock you up. Right here.” And he laid a palm over Lance’s belly to demonstrate, right where the bulge of his cock was distending the flesh, forming a long, thrusting lump.

“Uhhhh,” Lance moaned, undulating his hips on Keith’s cock, rhythm wild with heat-haze. _“Yes_ … please … fuck me full! Want it. So ... so ... _uh_ ... badly. Keith! _Keith – !”_

It felt filthy, leaning back on his hands to watch his cock thrust in and out of Lance’s pussy, hips leaving the mattress, then returning with a bounce. Spikes of pleasure surged through him as the slippery tight stretch of Lance’s cunt grew tighter. Keith’s cock was swelling, rising to its full potential, knot inflating. The filthy intensity was so devastating he wanted to close his eyes against it. He couldn’t, though, was too captivated by the sight of Lance’s plump little ass slapping down against his cock, his shaft fucking inside of Lance’s wet, squelching pussy, sinking into him balls-deep over and over again.

“Gonna … come …” he gasped, voice cracking around the molten tension.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! _Oh –_ fuck! Please, please, _fuck._ Want your pups. Huhh … _uhh_ … bite me! Bite me! Knot my pussy, baby!” Lance cried, cunt clamping down around Keith’s cock, and that was what threw him, snarling and yellow-eyed, over the edge, hurtling him into a brutal, jarring, lingerie-tearing orgasm.

 _Mate, mine, bite, my mate_ was the only coherent line of thinking he could make out as he leant forward to find the flesh he'd staked out on his omega's throat earlier. With a growl, Keith latched onto that smooth, inviting stretch of brown throat, sunk his fangs into the unmarked skin and bit down hard, giving one final, full thrust as the pleasure of a completed mating mark rocketed through the both of them in the same kaleidoscopic, vertiginous whorl. Keith registered screaming, high and musical, felt his girthy cock pulsing frantically, throbbing as he spilled his hot, flowing release into his consort, flooding his hungry little pussy with thick spurts of come.

Keith fucked Lance through it as best he could, pumping him full of his seed, grinding into his consort’s drenched opening with tiny, restricted half-thrusts as Lance wailed, pussy spasming around Keith’s fat knot. Keith reached a hand around him as his climax finally hit, thumbed his puffy clit, rubbing ruthless circles into the nerve-endings as Lance’s cunt contracted, milking Keith’s cock, then gushed wetly around the shaft, soaking Keith with his sweet, sweet orgasm.

Keith was reeling, sucking the spilt blood from Lance’s new mark and soothing the bite with his saliva, when he emerged from the foggy, lust-driven haze. “Fuck,” he panted, head spinning from the intense endorphin-release.

He was still sitting rock-hard inside of Lance, would be for the next thirty to forty minutes. His sweaty, fucked-out consort, for his part, was limp against Keith’s chest, the flutter of his heartbeat rabbit-quick and only just beginning to slow. The now-marked stretch of throat Keith had claimed was a blotchy, irritated red, already closing up in a pretty, raised pattern of lightning-bright scar tissue.

Keith slid them into a more comfortable position, lying sideways in bed, chest-to-back. He kissed the nape of Lance’s neck, skin hot against his lips, ran his fingers through his damp hair, nibbled his new mark with a possessive rumble that made Lance shudder through a cunt-clenching aftershock.

“How are you feeling?” he murmured, stroking Lance’s bare hip with his thumb.

Lance blinked his hooded eyes as though just now returning from a deep sex-trance, twisted his head to show Keith the gorgeous, sated smile he was wearing, dimple out in full-force. “I love you,” he breathed, earnest and flaying, the words whisper-quick.

They hadn’t yet said those three words.

Not until now.

An appalled, shocked orgasm shook Keith, taking him completely by surprise, hunching his shoulders as he curled around Lance and grunted through the pleasure-pain, erect cock spilling a second round of come into Lance’s abused pussy, already full and dripping with Keith’s seed. Lance’s channel was narrow, glowingly good, swimming with fluid. And it still felt like utter ecstasy around Keith’s hard cock, his aching knot.

Gods.

At his chest, Lance’s body was shaking with quiet laughter, his Altean markings beaming up at Keith.

Keith growled reproachfully and nipped his new mating mark, tonguing it calm again a moment later when Lance trembled fiercely in response, cunt tightening around Keith’s knot. A little whine sat pretty on his lips. Unable to curb his post-coital affection, Keith leant forward to kiss it off, hand curled around Lance's throat. 

When he pulled back to look at his consort, heavy-eyed and panting against Keith's mouth, Lance informed him, "You came inside me twice during my first heat-wave." His mouth lifted into a goofy grin. “Allura told me that about triples the chances of a first-time pregnancy.”

Keith groaned, now bombarded with images of his consort’s brown belly swelling, womb home to a growing little pup. Their child. “You are going to be the death of me,” he whispered, dipping down to kiss Lance’s spine and sliding a possessive hand over his warm navel.

“And all because I love you,” Lance sing-songed.

“And I you,” Keith returned, wringing a shivery gasp from his consort and laughing when it earned him a scowling slap to the arm.

**Author's Note:**

> leave a few nsfw klance prompts below and i may yet get to them.
> 
>  
> 
> [heaven in hiding.](https://genius.com/Halsey-heaven-in-hiding-lyrics)


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